


A Dark Game

by ChocobosTrinket (Neverforget94)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Assassin Noctis, Assassins, Assassins AU, Controlling fathers, Gen, Multi, Other, Overbearing dads, Prince Prompto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-03-30 08:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13947819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverforget94/pseuds/ChocobosTrinket
Summary: Prompto is the Prince of Niflheim. Once, he was a beacon of hope to the people of Niflheim for a brighter future. Unfortunately, things change. Everything in his daily life is now dictated by the emperor and has been for the past five years. He has no freedom, and as much as he wants to be the person who inspired hope in the people again, he doesn’t dare to. Enter Noctis. Prince of Assassins and heir to the now non-existent Insomnian throne. Sent on an assassination mission to take out the Prince of Niflheim by a twist of fate, he’s not expecting to find someone who ALSO wants the emperor dead.





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun thing I wrote for Prompto week awhile back. I like the idea that these two would end up as friends no matter what the situation.

When Noctis was selected for this, he had been proud.

Being fresh out of his training and chosen for such a high-grade mission was an honor. The king himself had picked him in a blind selection, not aware he’d chosen his own son. So, yes, the fact that his skills were substantial enough to be recognized by his father was the best thing that had happened to him in a while.

Though, killing the Niflheim prince didn’t sit right with him.

It was supposed to be a blow to their morale. He was the only heir to the throne, which since the Emperor was a bit older than his own dad, there wasn’t likely to have another. So, if he died, and when the Emperor died, the political environment might be destabilized. He was also the easiest to target, with little to no guards. Not to mention, like Noctis, he was beloved by his people. Supposedly.

From where Noct was sitting, that didn’t look like it was true.

The Nif prince sat in a chair by the window with a blank expression. Sometimes, he was reading. Other times, like now, he had nothing to do but stare outside. It wasn’t much of a view, but Noctis figured he’d managed to find something to watch. And he wouldn’t move for hours. Not until someone came and told him to get up and get ready for bed, or training, or any other thing they needed him for. If it wasn’t time for bed, then he was returned to his chair. Like a doll almost.

It gave him the chills honestly.

Everything about this prince screamed being controlled. Noctis almost felt like he was doing him a favor. And soon, it would be his time to strike. He dropped down from the tree he was hiding in, and threw a knife up toward the Prince’s window as he fell. Soon enough, he warped after it, hanging off the handle before swinging up and grabbing the window seal. He closed his eyes to wait for his signal. The Prince had just gone to bed, so it would be soon.

~

There was a knock on the door and one of his attendants stepped into his room. “It’s time for bed your highness.”

The Prince rose from his chair, his face neutral. “Alright.”

He followed his attendant over to his closet and allowed him to undress and redress him into his night clothes. The attendant then helped him into bed and brought the covers up to his chin. Every movement was mechanical and well-practiced. It only took three minutes.

“That will be all your highness.” The attendants voice was about as dull as Prompto felt.

“Of course,” He closed his eyes. “Good night.”

With that small exchange, the man left without replying and Prompto was left alone in his bed. As soon as the door was closed his eyes opened and he stared up at the ceiling. Like most nights, he began to regulate his breathing as much as he could. He’d found that if he held still and breathed steadily, he could fall asleep in about 15 minutes. He had it down to a science almost, considering sleep was the only place he wasn’t so tightly controlled.

It wasn’t always like this.

Prompto remembered before, when he was younger. He had been the one to dictate his schedule mostly. He still had to be tutored and learn the politics of the empire. Combat training as well. But he’d had freedom. He could stroll among the garden, or play in the unused wings of their home. If he truly wished to, he could stay up all night reading.

But then he got older, and he had been allowed to go out among the people to talk to them. To bring their complaints to the emperor as their prince. He hadn’t realized that his father hadn’t really wanted to hear their complaints, but had only sent him out to placate them. So, when he had gotten a chance to speak with his father at one of their rare dinners and brought it up, it hadn’t ended well.

No, his father had essentially ordered him to shut his mouth, in which Prompto had retaliated by shouting at him and standing up. Standing before the emperor had stood, what had he been thinking? A display of disobedience and major disrespect. One his father had not tolerated.

He had worked quickly. Dizzyingly so. One moment Prompto had been standing before his father. The next he had been dragged back to his quarters, and locked in for the night, with a promise of him not being allowed to leave his room for a week. But that hadn’t stopped Prompto.

Originally, he had only paced around the room, broke things, and shouted out the windows. Then, he started to escape his rooms and went back among the people, helping as much as he could where he could before the MTs found him and dragged him back. It was on these outings that he’d learned all his father had hid from him. The war on Insomnia being unjustified. Whole villages disappearing. The experimentation on humans. Infants even.

Then, one night, there was a small uprising. It hadn’t been huge, only a few brave souls really. Rallying behind him of all things. They’d claimed he’d be a better ruler than his father, and wanted his father removed so he could take his throne early. Prompto had been dragged out to the throne room when they had been caught and watched them die, one by one. But not before they had been tortured for their information. Like why they had done it. If there were more of them. And who their families were.

His father made him watch and the memory haunted him to this day.

But that wasn’t the worst part. His father brought the families in next. Twisted the children into Daemons to serve in his experiments. Killed the remaining adults in vicious ways.

“Let them serve as a lesson.” He had said. “You are just as expendable as them. Never forget that.”

Then he had been punished for inspiring them. He still couldn’t remember that part. And the thought of remembering made him sick with fear.

After all that, his father had staged a public appearance. They had never fought they told the media. Prompto would rule in his own time. He had to state that he never supported the rebel’s efforts, and that they had been misguided. They’d be rehabilitated and then returned to the public. He had to lie to his people. Put on a good show. Make them believe that the royal family was united and that they’d heard the people’s complaints and were working on fixing them. There was no need to worry, and that Prompto was now going to be focusing on learning how to rule effectively by observing his father.

He would no longer be among them. And that was supposed to satisfy their people.

It had worked was the sad part.

That was when he’d been locked away. Strict rules put in place. He wasn’t allowed to so much as move without someone telling him to. He slept when he was told to. Only spoke when allowed, and even then, it was only small phrases. Sometimes there were public appearances, with written speeches and cues for his emotions. He no longer belonged to himself. And if he stepped out of line he’d be killed. His father had let him know that in no uncertain terms.

It was hell to be so controlled, but soon enough five years had passed. Five years of being an emotionless puppet. Of unwavering obedience. Of being locked in his own mind.

Of the punishments that occurred when he couldn’t play the part.

But it was paying off finally. Slowly, his father had been letting him resume his combat lessons. If he was especially good, and did well in training, he was allowed on 5 minute walks in the garden. (Supervised of course, but just being outside was nice.) And soon, if he was excelling at an acceptable rate, his father hinted at eating dinner together again. With these small allowances, he was waking up after a five-year stupor. He began to pay attention to his surroundings again. After not being present in his own body for so long, it was somewhat maddening. He wanted his freedom back.

But…he knew that getting it back might be harder than he’d expected. Lately, he’d heard the servants whispering. The emperor was getting more ruthless. And he was worried that this change was a result of that. Which meant his father had something planned. So, he needed to play along a little longer. A little longer and he’d…

Well, he hadn’t quite decided if he was going to try and escape (to Altissia maybe?) or to attempt to finish what those rebels started. But that was a worry for another day. He could feel his eyes begin to drift close and nearly dropped off to sleep.

Thump.

His eyes slowly opened again, this time he was listening intently. That was out of place. His cycle of breathing was broken and he was immediately awake again. He listened for a little longer and upon hearing nothing, mentally settled.

But then the alarms went off in the distance. It sounded like it was somewhere outside his window…Which honestly could be any of the western sector of the fortress. But it was enough to warrant turning his head. Once he did he quickly closed his eyes and started to regulate his breathing as much as he could.

He had caught a glimpse of someone coming in the window. Which was pretty horrifying in any situation. But his mind was racing. The alarms going off were clearly a distraction. His mind immediately jumped to his father staging an attempt. Which meant he needed to make his move now. Leave. Something! But first the matter of the intruder. He had hoped he was just passing through, but nope. He was coming right over to the bed. Prompto counted his footsteps as he moved, and listened to how close he was.

There was an odd crystalline sound and a flash of blue above him. He heard the person’s clothes shift, and opened his eyes.

His eyes met surprised ones and he launched out of bed at him, tackling the man in a tangle of blankets, wrapping his arms around his chest at they hit the floor. He was fully aware that the man could still stab his back, but he was hoping that he’d be too off guard to realize it for the moment. But it was better than he hoped, as he heard the blade fall on the floor somewhere to the left of them.

This was probably not going according to plan for him.

Prompto grunted as the man started grappling with him. He was a little surprised that he didn’t try to hurt him. He didn’t even try punching him. He was just currently trying to pry him off. But Prompto had the upper hand, by way of being on top of him. But then as he was getting up to try and run for the window he felt the man hit his inner arm, which caused him to collapse back on top of him. The man then rolled them over, probably to pin him.

But like HELL was Prompto going to just let him.

They eventually ended up wrestling on the floor like two school kids. It would have been fun if it wasn’t for that fact that this man had just literally tried to kill him. Speaking of which, if this was an assassination attempt, this man was doing a poor job of it.

“Will- you- just- STOP.” The man said in Lucian accent.

Prompto froze for a moment, which obviously surprised the man as well considering they both froze. He was sitting on the man’s legs, one of his attacker’s wrists in his hand while the other was pushing on his face. There was a buzzing in Prompto’s ears. He had spoken like a Lucian. A LUCIAN. Not a Gralean. This wasn’t an attempt by his father. Which was both a relief and a disappointment. He couldn’t figure out why it was a disappointment, so he wasn’t going to think about it.

“Holy shit you’re from Insomnia.” He said breathlessly. Both their eyes were wide as they stared at each other.

But then Prompto heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall and immediately became panicked.

“Sorry.” He hissed, and used his free hand the punch the man as hard as he could.

Now. It was by no means hard-enough to knock him out, but it damn well stunned him. And while he was stunned Prompto used the grip he had on the man’s wrist to pull him up into a sitting position. After which he hurriedly dove behind him and hooked his arms under his shoulders and practically dragged him across the room. The man then realized that the blonde had him in a hold and was clearly taking him somewhere so he started kicking his legs.

“Let go! What do you think you’re doing?” He began to call out.

“If you don’t shut up we’ll both be killed.” Prompto muttered into his ear.

That shocked the man into silence, which Prompto used to his advantage by heaving him into the closet and shutting the door. He looked on the floor for the blade the man had, and thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t very far. He darted over and back before the man had gotten back to his feet inside the closet and stabbed the knife into the bottom of the door seal, effectively preventing the man from opening the door.

“Just shut up and be quiet please.” Prompto begged through the door. “They’re coming.”

With that, Prompto scooped the blankets off the floor and jumped back into bed. Thankfully, he managed to arrange himself as he normally lay before the door to his room opened, and he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

“Your highness, wake up.”

It was easy to slip back into the calm and controlled personal he used to deal with this man. His eyes fluttered open in a perfect pantomime of his usual wake up routine.

“There was an attack in the western hall, where the researchers are stationed. Was there anything of note here?”

Prompto shook his head and dared a glance at the man. “No. Everything is fine.”

The man glanced around the room while Prompto was thanking the six that it was so dark by the closet. When he saw nothing out of place, he nodded his head in approval.

“Alright Highness. Please return to sleep.”

“Of course. Good night.” He said, and the attendant left.

He waited until his foot-steps faded from the hall and then leapt back out of bed and crossed the room to his closet. Now that he was at this point, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. So, he decided to go with what he’d been good at before being isolated.

Talking.

With a timid knock on the closet door he asked, “If I let you out of there would you try to kill me again?”

There was a pause, and he could hear the man shifting around in his closet, most likely to face to door.

“Well…I mean, that’s kind of the only reason I’m here?”

Prompto bit his lip thinking, “O-oh…that’s…”

“Yeah.” The man sounded like he settled against the doors. “Sorry.”

He in turn also settled against the closet. “Guess…I can’t let you out yet then.”

“I guess.” They sat in silence for a moment before the man spoke again. “Earlier you said…they’d kill us both if they found me. Was that true?”

He nodded his head though the man couldn’t see it. “Yeah. They’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“That’s…wrong. On so many levels. They’d kill you because an assassin came through your window?” The man sounded shocked. Good. Prompto could work with shocked.

“Again, yes.”

“But why? Not that I’m eager to die or anything, but why wouldn’t they just save you?”

Prompto leaned his head back against the wood of the door. “What do you know of me?”

“Uh…how is that…?” The mans sounded a bit confused, so there must not be much out there about him.

Pity.

“Just answer the question.” A deep sigh left him.

The man was silent for a few moments, and Prompto wondered if he was going to ignore him. But then he spoke. “Well…From our intel, you’re beloved by your people.”

The surprised him enough to say, “Still?”

“Should you not be?” The man’s voice turned slightly confrontational, as if daring him to tell him why he shouldn’t be loved.

They didn’t have time for all that.

“Depends on who you’re asking.” He left it at that and said nothing more.

The man then changed the topic slightly. “…If you don’t mind me asking…Why would they kill their prince?”

“I think…dad’s been looking for an excuse to…get rid of me lately.” He inhaled slowly and then exhaled at the same rate. “Anything out of the ordinary would be enough. Including an assassin coming in the window. Easy to make it look like you did your job before they could save me.”

Now that he was talking with someone, it was easier to put together. Obvious almost. The temptation of freedom by allowing him to walk in the gardens. Learning how to fight again. Tastes of the life he used to have. Either he was trying to provoke Prompto into running away, effectively removing him as his heir, or he wanted Prompto to snap and attack him. Which would also remove him as heir because he’d be dead. He could also be trying to frame him later. Honestly, there were many things his father could be planning.

“Get rid of you?”

“Kill. You know. One shot to the head. Or a dagger to the heart… I originally thought you were one of his honestly.” Prompto said with just a hint of bitterness.

“If it’s so bad, why didn’t you run?” The man spoke softly, as if he feared Prompto stopping. But that only served to exasperate him.

“And leave my people without a ruler when my dad passes?” Prompto glanced at the doors of the closet in irritation. “Never.”

The man remained silent, so Prompto, after curling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself, continued.

“…My father is not a kind person. I’ve seen what he does to those beneath him.” A shiver ran down his spine as he added on in a whisper, “I’ve experienced it.”

“I can’t allow him to continue,” he said a bit firmer, “but the only hope I have of stopping him is to outlive him.”

“You want to stop him?” The surprise in his voice only drew Prompto into speaking more.

“I’d give anything to.” He said softly.

“Let me explain,” He then began, “When…When I was younger, I used to go outside the fortress. Among the people we’re supposed to serve. And the people told me of his deeds. Of people disappearing into the night. The unjust war against your people.” He took a steadying breath. “Of experiments that shouldn’t see the light of day. Upon our own people. Children even.”

“That…Lead to a small uprising of people. In my name. They wanted me to rule. But it failed. And I’ve been locked away ever since.” Prompto buried his head in his knees.

“We’ve…Never heard of this. The people were willing to fight behind you?” The man sounded like he was getting to his feet, so Prompto did the same, leaning against the doors to reinforce them in case he was trying to get out.

“They were. It’s been five years since then. I… I doubt they’d do it now. I’ve been nothing more than my father’s puppet for the same length of time.” A bit of panic entered his voice as he felt the man push against the doors. “Please don’t break the doors, someone might come!”

“I’m not.” The man said, “Just let me out, I swear on the six I’m not going to attack you.”

He continued leaning against the door, “Sorry to say buddy, but swears don’t mean much around here in case you haven’t noticed.”

But the man kept pressing outward, so with a groan, Prompto stepped out of the way and jerked out the dagger. Once it was gone, the doors burst open and the man tumbled to the floor. While he was getting up Prompto leveled the dagger at him, even though his hands shook.

“Please, I don’t want to fight.”

“Then don’t.” The man stood up and removed the mask he was wearing, revealing someone around the same age as him. “I’m not going to try anything. If I was, you’d already be dead.”

At that, Prompto snorted. “No offense, but you kind of botched your first go at me. What’s to stop you from messing up the second?”

The man glowered at him. “Shut it.”

When the man stayed true to his word and made no move to attack, Prompto lowered the dagger and then went back to sit on his bed. Wordlessly, the man went over to the chair Prompto spent most of his day in, and sat down as well.

“So…how are you going to get out? I’m assuming you can’t leave unless you…well, you know.” Prompto once again curled up, hugging himself.

“No, I’m not supposed to. But I mean… What you’ve told me changes things in my opinion. So killing you isn’t an option.” The man shrugged, at loss for what he should do. The right thing, though it didn’t feel like the right thing, would to be kill the prince and get back to Insomnia without looking back.

But then the prince spoke again. “My death wouldn’t hurt anything, as I’ve said, you’d be doing my dad a favor… And he’s planning something. I know it. Things are changing around here after years of being the same… I want to stop him. It. Whatever he’s doing.”

Prompto suddenly came to a decision, and got up from his chair before he could talk himself out of it.

The man glanced out the window, the rendezvous signal catching his eye. But then he turned his attention back to the prince, who to his surprise was approaching him. There was determination and desperation in his eyes in equal measure. And normally, he’d have panicked seeing someone walking toward him with a dagger in hand. But he didn’t feel like he was going to be attacked.

True to his intuition, the prince pointed the dagger at him, handle first. “You’re an assassin, right? Then teach me. You can’t get near the emperor. But I can.”

“You want to kill your father?” The man’s jaw dropped. This was… a lot. Too much. The mission has changed too much. The prince himself was offering to commit regicide. He needed to report in. NOW.

“He has to die. And soon.” Then one of the saddest face the man had ever seen crossed the prince’s face. “I don’t want to, but it must be done. Look how many people have died because of him. Yours and mine.”

“I’ll…see what I can do.” The man took the blade back from him, holding it with the blade pointed downward, and not at the prince. “I have to go for now. But I will come back. I promise.”

The prince laughed as he stood and went to the window. “Even if you don’t, thank you. For my life.”

He then gave a small bow to the man in gratitude. Considering he was a royal, it was one of the highest honors he could give just as himself. And upon straightening, the man’s face had softened.

“Prince Prompto?” He said, making a choice.

“Yes?”

“My name is Noctis.”

Before Prompto could ask anything about his name, which might have clued him in to just who he was, Noctis disappeared in a flash of light after throwing the dagger he’d given back to him.


	2. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been months since Noctis had been by Prompto. Things between Prompto and his father are more strained than ever with his controlled return to Niflheim’s high society. Noctis has been working in the shadows, and a high stakes plan is put into motion. Prompto’s wait is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.  
> Like, I had life hit me upside the head with a bat. I swear I had half of this done since freaking MARCH, but couldn't find the time to sit down to write the rest. D:  
> You guys are the best for putting up with me. I hope you like the second chapter! Kind of a lot of...filler that's not filler? You'll see what I mean when we get further down the line on this story.

Months passed Prompto by, and what passed for spring around his home settled in. The weather was fair enough for a light sweater if one wished it, thought the chill never really went away. But his people were used to the cold. In fact, they considered this a heat wave almost. People were milling around the streets in outer Gralea, enjoying the sun. If he strained his eyes, he could see some of them in the distance, and tried to get glimpses of their lives. Whatever they were doing was much more interesting than the royal conduct textbook he was currently reading. Or supposed to be. It was very dry.

Tonight, he was supposed to dine with his father, for the first time since he had been reprimanded and forced into this mockery of life. So, as partly a reminder and partly a slap in the face, his tutors had been instructed to have him go over the material before tonight’s party. To ensure that he wouldn’t act as he did during that fateful dinner years ago. For tonight there were diplomats from overseas coming, generals, high ranking lords and ladies of the Niflm court, and since Prompto was no longer a teen, the emperor had decided he could no longer hide him from diplomatic niceties.

A deep sigh left him, and he leaned back in his chair. He was nervous, that much was obvious. But lately an unsettled feeling had been plaguing him. He felt like right around the corner something horrible was about to happen, and he had no way to stop it. But he was consoled by the thought of Noctis coming back for him. He knew it was rather stupid of him to hope that the would-be assassin would return, but still. He’d take whatever small comfort he could get.

A knock interrupted his thoughts and a voice called through the door, “Your highness?”

“Yes?” He called back, quickly turning a few pages to make it seem like he had been reading.

The door swung open and one of the newer retainers, Virtus, a young man around Prompto’s age, training to be his future guard and advisor supposedly, walked in. He still had an air of being unsure about him, but hid it better than most. His only tell was that he’d bite his lips when he was doubting himself. Like now.

“It’s time to get ready?” He said, but it ended up sounding more like a question.

As much as Prompto wanted to let slip that he was like him, unsure in most things like everyone their age, he couldn’t. Such a slip up could lead to his father thinking he wasn’t broken. So, he kept his face a mask of indifference, and nodded.

“Alright.”

He rose from his chair with the grace years of being watched as the prince had taught him. Virtus openly stared at him, like his mind was boggled by how unflappable he seemed. But his caretaker, the man his father had assigned to watch him all these years, was used to it. He was the one who taught him after all.

“Virtus, don’t just stand there, come here.” He snapped, and the young man rushed to the caretaker’s side.

“Yes sir!”

Prompto glided over to his closet and held his arms out to his sides as the man began pulling off his over clothes. He found the extra layers frivolous, but to the rest of the court they were a symbol of his status. Being royal, every movement was supposed to carry weight. The clothes were symbolic of that. A slow sigh left him as they stripped him down to his last layer, a grey undershirt and leggings, and then began to dress him in evening wear.

The first layer ended up being almost formfitting, a simple black pair of pants and a white tank top. He enjoyed being able to freely move while he could, because after that they layered on a ridiculous amount of fabric. Another white shirt, the sleeves almost sheer loose on the arm and fitted below his elbow. A pair of black gloves that only held onto his hand by a single loop around his index finger. Metal bracers that went from his wrist to elbow. A vest with gold and red embellishments that closed at the side. A tan jacket that went down to his thighs and belted closed at the waist and a hood. The hood they put over his head, to hold it until they put the rest of the layers on. Because of course there were more.

He was already overheating.

With his face somewhat obscured while they finished, his eyebrows pinched together, a small visible sign of annoyance that he allowed himself. Any other time, he’d never have dared. But honestly, he felt that this was ridiculous. Recalling his days among the people, also a dangerous thing to do, he remembered the cold, and how even in all his layers he felt it seep into his bone. Meanwhile, his people had to make do with less, or even worse, nothing.

He was suddenly pulled back out of his thoughts when Virtus peeked under his hood. His eyebrows raised, and eyes widened before he could stop them. But just as quickly, he schooled his face back into a neutral expression. He kept his breathing steady, and tried not to think about how that slip of an expression might get him in trouble. And considering that this young man was training to be his retainer, he would most likely report it.

But to Prompto’s pleasant surprise, he didn’t.

Instead he asked, “Your highness, please raise your arms out to your sides?”

“Don’t ask him you fool boy, simply tell him.” The caretaker snapped, annoyance in his voice.

“Oh! Right. Sorry.” The boy winced as if the words had struck him.

They continued and finally took off his hood. By the time they’d finished, he felt heavy and in the mirror, was twice as bulky as before. The black robe he wore under the final white and red coat was reminiscent of his father’s own robes, aside from another belt fitting it closer to his body. The white coat had the royal coat of arms on his back and red strips of leather also going down his front, again, like his fathers.

There was a pang in his chest at how similar they’d look tonight, and all the while they’d be paying the part of a happy family. Sometimes, Prompto deeply wished the act to be the truth. But somewhere along the years, his father had changed. He was, believe it or not, once loved by his people not feared. And back then he’d also treated Prompto as actual family. Unlike now.

“We’re finished your highness.” He caretaker said in his same droll tone once they’d stopped tugging things into their precise places, and Prompto had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

‘Would it kill you to show some emotion,’ he thought bitterly.

Taking in the final effect of his outfit, he took notice of one thing specifically. Unlike his father’s, his clothes only came to his mid-thigh, leaving his legs mostly unhindered. Any other dinner would require him to be in full robes. A brief frown on his face, he knew would be permitted a question because of this change.

“Has father ordered that I wear our summer clothes?” He turned and looked at the caretaker, his face carefully neutral.

“Apologies for this your highness.” His caretaker started, and Prompto very nearly jumped in surprise. He NEVER apologized. Ever.

“While showing Virtus how to press your clothes and prepared them for use, a breeze knocked over a vase in the laundry room and ruined the formal set.” He briefly bowed his head, and Prompto’s eyes flickered over to Virtus and then back.  
He wondered just how much trouble they’d both gotten into over that, if the caretaker was apologizing to him.

“I see…Was father informed?” He asked, pushing his luck. But he felt that this would be an understandable question, considering he was only supposed to do what was allowed.

“Yes, your highness.” Virtus answered, his face unsure. “At once when it occurred.”

Prompto nodded and said no more, allowing the caretaker and himself to slip back into their usual routine. He went to open the door and held it for Prompto go through first. He made his way to the dining hall, preparing himself mentally.

Behind him, the caretaker was talking to Virtus.

“We always follow behind, Virtus. Though we are escorting his highness, we are never to walk in front of him.” He said, his voice taking on the tone of a teacher. Something Prompto hadn’t heard in a while.

He tuned them out as he caught a glimpse of the entrance up ahead, his father waiting there for him. Very subtly, he picked up his pace.

“Ah, Prompto.” His father said once he noticed them. He looked at him from head to toe, judging his appearance. “Punctual. That’s a change.”

He bowed to his father and said lamely, “Being on time is important.”

He knew his father wasn’t expecting him to give a lively answer. Not since before his seclusion had he been upbeat. Something, judging by the approval in his father’s eyes, he’d wanted. Without another word, and without a glance, his father waved his hand at Virtus and the caretaker.

“You’re dismissed.”

“Your Majesty. Your highness.” The caretaker said in farewell, bowing alongside Virtus, and then quickly leaving.

“Shoulders back Prompto.” His father said as he took his place beside him, and that was that.

He held his head up high, and kept his face indifferent, cold almost, as he strode into the ballroom one step behind his father.

“His Radiance, Imperial Majesty Iedolas Aldercapt, and Imperial Highness Prince Prompto Aldercapt.” Someone announced.

Everyone turned to them and bowed, acknowledging them, and then returned to their conversations. Prompto grounded himself, eyes looking around the room to mentally list who was present and who was not. A few of the lords and ladies he didn’t know, and he figured they must have only recently been elevated to their position. The lower houses always frequently changed under his father’s rule.

It was the higher houses he had to be wary of. They were charming and laughed easily, but every single one of them was cold and cunning behind their beaming smiles. More than one of them had tried to arrange for either an accident for him, or to set up a marriage to their children for him. Some had even done both in the same week he’d heard. But that wasn’t spoken of in polite company. Everyone knew who had made a move and when. The game was not to let it show on your face.

Sometimes he wished masks would come back in fashion. The game would be so much easier then.

“Ah, Prince Prompto, it’s good to see you’ve joined us this evening.”

Prompto mentally stood a little straighter at the voice from behind him. He turned slowly and smiled what could be considered an easy-going smile at Verstael Besithia.

“Good evening Minister, enjoying yourself so far?” He asked, his body language at ease.

Truthfully his stomach was tying itself in knots and he felt rather faint. The Minister was something of an enigma to Prompto. He was feared for his experiments and the evil acts he’d committed in them, but toward Prompto was nothing but kind. It was widely known that he had a soft spot for the prince. But no one knew why. Not even the prince himself.

“That I am. Tell me, Prince, how goes your studies? Have you reached the end of the math curriculum again?”

At this change in topic Prompto brightened a little. He had. He was something of a mathematical and scientific genius. However, his father didn’t value such things. But at least with the Minister, he could discuss it. It had the plus side of no one being able to follow their talk of theories and equations, so no one would approach. And, so long as it stuck to theories and such, he’d found the conversation enjoyable. However, he couldn’t keep it up all night.

“Ah, well. I shouldn’t keep you any longer your highness.” Besithia bowed briefly and then smiled a smile that sent Prompto’s skin crawling, with a changed look in his eyes that was the cold and cunning visage he was used to, “I need to update your father on the recent progress on my current experiment, but look forward to seeing you more now that you’re attending these events again.”

“Right.” Prompto gave him a small nod, and reflected a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Same to you, Minister. Enjoy your evening.”

Once Besithia turned away, Prompto released a breath he’d been holding. He’d been at ease when discussing math. But seeing the changing in demeanor in the minister always unsettled him. He could see why people feared him, and thanked the astrals that he, for some inexplicable reason, liked him.

But he didn’t have long to rest, considering an arm was suddenly slung around his neck and pulling him backwards onto one of the ballroom balconies, and out of sight of the court and his father.

He squawked in surprise, which lead to bright laughter from behind him.

“And here I was beginning to think you’d never show up at one of these again!”

His eyes widened and he fought his way free of the arm, which had only been holding him half-heartedly, and turned.

“Loqi!” Prompto smiled brightly, and practically crushed his one-time best friend in a hug. Or did his best to anyways. It was hard to with the armor he was wearing.

He hadn’t seen his friend since he was 16, and had known him since they were 7 and 10 respectively. He’d used to risk everything to come and see Prompto when he’d first been locked away into seclusion for that first year. And when he’d been caught, because one couldn’t avoid the emperor’s eyes forever, he’d sworn that he’d still be friends with him. Thankfully, the fact that he was a Tummelt protected him. Indeed, the emperor saw it as auspicious that the youngest Tummelt took to the prince so easily, considering that house Tummelt was considered the most loyal house above all others. Loqi’s own father thought so as well, but couldn’t look past that Loqi disobeyed. And Prompto hadn’t seen, or heard of what had become of him since.

“Oh hey, easy! You’ll hurt yourself.” Loqi snickered as he patted Prompto on the back.

Prompto pulled away and tried to hide his watery eyes, rubbing at them furiously to dry them out, “It’s been so long. I thought by now you’d have been sent to basic training by your father!”

“I was.” Loqi said with a smirk. “I finished early.”

It was only then that Prompto fully looked at his armor. It made Loqi look a lot larger than Prompto was, which was saying something considering they were both on the beanpole side of the scale. Plus, it made him taller. The metal was unyielding, and if he had to guess, he’d say it was meant for combat. But what drew his eye was the royal red favor hanging from his right shoulder, with Prompto’s family crest in gold adorning it. Beneath that was the Tummelt family crest. It both marked where his loyalty was placed, to the Aldercapt family, while simultaneously declaring his house name.

“You,” His eyes snapped up to Loqi’s face, which still bore the smirk and now also held pride in his eyes, “You’re a general!”

“Yup!” Loqi reached a hand up and traced the edge of the fabric. “As it turns out, I have a natural aptitude for the mechs, and great strength in strategic planning. So much so, that I rose through the ranks quickly.”

Prompto wanted to jump up and down for his friend, because this was a monumental accomplishment. Becoming a general at age 23 was unheard of! But he couldn’t. Though they were out of sight of the ball room, it wasn’t very far. If he was too loud, they would be heard. But then Prompto realized something.

“That means you’ll have a seat on my father’s council.” He stepped closer to Loqi and grasped his hands in his, just holding them like when they had been children. “Loqi, that’s a life appointment.”

“I know.” Loqi’s smirk softened into a true smile, something that only Prompto had ever been able to bring out. “So, one day I’ll be on your council Prom.”

Loqi’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he continued, “The changes you wished for. We can still bring them about.”

Prompto’s chest tightened with warmth, and as dangerous as speaking those words was so near the court, a wistful smile crossed his face upon replying. “There’s nothing I’d like more than that.”

They both stood in silence then, simply enjoying the others company. It’d been so long since either had seen a friendly face. Both were recalling when they’d been younger, and though both were only just reaching their 20s, each felt older than the last time they’d seen each other. And if he was being honest with himself, the fact the Loqi remembered their conversations from years ago, and the changes he’d wanted once he was emperor, touched him.

But then Prompto sighed and released his hands.

“As much as I want to remain here and talk with you, we both have to been seen at this party.”

Loqi rolled his eyes, an annoyed huff leaving him. “Don’t I know it.”

“I’ll…be seeing you Loqi.” Prompto offered a small and unsure smile to him, to which Loqi huffed once more and pulled him into a hug.

“Count on it. We’re friends, right? Not even the emperor can keep me away forever.”

Prompto laughed into his shoulder, despite how Loqi’s armor dug into him, and squeezed just as tightly as before. He’d like to think, that one day, he’d have more than just stolen moments with his friend.

Once he let go, Loqi made sure he wasn’t too ruffled, and let him return to the ballroom, alone. Though, he was never very far away for the rest of the night, and every once in a while, he would catch Loqi’s face twisting up with barely concealed panic that he’d somehow offended some lady or lord. It’d been a while since he’d been in this kind of situation after all.

Prompto, thanks to his tutoring and his father’s expectations, made no such mistakes.

The rest of the night passed in relative peace. Sure, Prompto has a few people try to pry into just where he’s been, and a few people, the newer lower houses, make snide comments about his wardrobe. He fully expected his father would take away their lord or ladyship as soon as the night was over for that. But it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Soon enough, hours into the party, he found himself being dismissed by his father back to his room. Some excuse made for him about travelling to a different keep in the early morning, to oversee some important thing or the other. He hadn’t paid attention because he knew it was a lie. He’d be in his rooms, as always. Once he was in the hallway, alone, he allowed himself a moment to drop the smile he’d had on for most of the evening, and sighed heavily. He rolled his shoulders and reached up to massage his neck, trying to work the stiffness out of it. Holding his head as high as his father wanted was a surprising amount of work, when it had to be sustained for so long.

But then the moment ended when the young man, Virtus, could be heard around the corner. He straightened and waited for him.

“Ah, your highness.” Virtus said rather brightly for this time of night. He bowed and then gestured down the hall. “I’m to escort you to your room for the night…If that’s okay?”

Prompto had to stifle a laugh, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the young man’s slip. “You’re not supposed to ask, remember?”

He couldn’t resist teasing him. Perhaps seeing his old friend tonight had given him hope that he could make another friend out of this young man.

Virtus’s eyes widened and he bowed, “Uh…oops? Sorry your highness!”

“It’s fine.” Prompto responded easily, and began to walk, “I just don’t want you to get into trouble again.”

“Ah…” Virtus fell into step behind Prompto, walking behind him as he was taught this time. “It’ll happen plenty, don’t worry your highness. I mean…Ugh…that is to say that I am trying, I don’t mean to get into trouble, but I tend to. Er…That’s probably not the most reassuring thing to hear from your future attendant. But…”

Virtus continued babbling, and it set Prompto at ease. Clearly, he was a lowborn citizen. That didn’t make him lesser in Prompto’s eyes, but it meant he wasn’t used to all the pomp and circumstance.  
Eventually though, they came to the hall before the maze of the royal quarters, and both paused where they were. All the lights, every single one, was out. A small gasp left Virtus, and quickly, before Prompto could react he was grabbing his hand and running into one of the halls.

“V-virtus?” Prompto called, keeping up with him easily thanks to his return to training, and the fact that his legs weren’t tangling in his robes. Thank the gods for his summer clothes.

“I’m sorry your highness, I really thought I had more time!” He whispered back, hurrying down another hall with Prompto in hand.

“What’s going on?”

Virtus came to a stop in one of the smaller halls, and quickly pulled the prince into an alcove with him.

“I’m sorry. Prince, I’m Lucian.” Virtus looked at Prompto with large eyes, “I was sent by Prince Noctis to watch over you, and got wind of an assassination attempt, but haven’t found out the night yet.”

“Wait…what?” Prompto shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Noctis had been watching over him through his attendant.

Virtus, lowered his voice even further. “It’s tonight. Damn the six, it’s tonight. Forgive me highness.”

He suddenly grabbed Prompto and hid one of his hands inside his robes, summoning something small and then dismissing it in a bright blue light.

“I hope that was enough to hide the light,” He muttered, while releasing Prompto. At least all the layers are good for something Prompto thought.

“What…I mean…What?” He was all sorts of confused. Because assassins were watching over him, but there was an assassination attempt? But that would mean… His face grew somber. “My father.”

Virtus made a pained expression, but then looked back outside the alcove. “Yes, your highness.”

He’d thought it odd that he’d have Loqi serve under him rather than wait for Prompto to ascend to the throne to name him as one of his generals. Looking back, he could make the connection. He named Loqi to the council because Prompto was never going to ascend. But what had he done wrong? He looked back and tried to figure out why his father would want him gone after all the work he’d put into breaking him. The isolation. The strict schedules. Hell, the scripts of what he was and was not allowed to say.

Where had he slipped up?

“Prince!” Virtus suddenly grabbed him and yanked him forward, and when he’d been a dagger was sticking out of the wall.

The two young men glanced at each other and took off down the hall running. Not for the first time in his life did Prompto hate that the Royal halls were meant to be maze like. It was supposed to be easy to escape from a killer, but in this case, only seemed to make it harder.

His attention then turned to his attendant. Prompto hated that this made sense too. Virtus was young, inexperienced. Lowborn. Expendable to his father. Him being the one escorting him rather than his usual, trained in combat, attendant, would be seen as a tragic coincidence. Especially since the assassin would probably make sure to kill them both. Easy to blame the prince’s death on the lucians since there would be no witnesses. Security was low everywhere but the ballroom. There would be no help to reach.

Someone running around the corner in front of them pulled him out of his thoughts. The person rushed toward Prompto, knife drawn and ready, and Prompto couldn’t stop in time. Instead of managing to stab him, Virtus tackled the man before he could reach him. They were soon fighting for the knife, and it was nothing like the fight when he and Noctis met. This man meant to kill them.

“Run Prompto!” Virtus shouted.

And he could do nothing else but comply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr. ...also, I started a discord channel now too. pfft. If y'all ever feel like chatting at me( or yelling at me to get my writing done) come on and join! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr @chocobostrinket.


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